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Solomon F. Gingerich, tree, in English Clear filters

CheerfulSolomon F. Gingerich

Who’s Afraid?

O little squirrel in the tree, Why are you looking down at me? My Daddy says that you have charm, I wouldn't do you any harm. If you come down and we can meet, I'll give you this big nut to eat. And now you're climbing down the tree, I see you're not afraid of me. But you are coming pretty near, And I am getting full of fear. O shall I run, or shall I stay?— But now—from me you shy away!—
InspiredSolomon F. Gingerich

A Tree Crisis

One summer day I saw a scraggy tree That stood alone in a drouth-stricken land. Its boughs though starkly gaunt still valiantly Defied the desert wind and flying sand. Now why did Nature's laws demand it strive Forlornly to outlive death-dealing drouth, Its roots strike deep for moisture in the earth, Its sparse leaves gasp for air hot from the south? Today that tree stands in a rain-drenched land, Symmetrical and fair beyond belief. It dominates the landscape far and wide, Its leaves proclaim from drouth a sweet relief. That tree now stands a symbol of the strength That rescued life from out the jaws of death, A glory to the dwellers in that land, A power and grace that fairly hold your breath.

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